


Really, Very Ugly

by trainwhistlesatnight



Category: Skulduggery Pleasant - Derek Landy
Genre: Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Insults, M/M, Self Confidence Issues
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-06
Updated: 2019-10-06
Packaged: 2020-11-24 19:58:07
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,246
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20913260
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/trainwhistlesatnight/pseuds/trainwhistlesatnight
Summary: Ghastly is ugly, and that's a fact of life, but no one ever said it didn't get to Ghastly sometimes.





	Really, Very Ugly

**Author's Note:**

> This was a requests! Hmu at train-whistles-at-night on Tumblr!

It was not often that others’ comments got to Ghastly anymore, in fact, he hardly even noticed them most of the time. He had scars all over his head, he was quite tall and big, very muscle-y, etc. He knew, even when he wasn’t trying, that he was scary. He knew, by any common definition of the word, that he was ugly. But it didn’t bother him. Usually.

The thing is, when Skulduggery told people about Ghastly before they met him for the first time, he’d say Ghastly was ugly. Really ugly. And Ghastly knew that Skulduggery said it, so they wouldn’t. He said it before they had the chance to, and hopefully, they’d subtly pick up on his mentioning so that they could confirm or deny it in their own head, instead of shouting it out loud. And he'd rather take them staring than yelling any day.

The thing was, though, Ghastly could tell himself over and over and over that Skulduggery didn't mean it to hurt, and therefore it shouldn't... but it did.

And sometimes, it hurt quite a lot.

And he supposed this was one of those times.

The new person left, and after a bit, Skulduggery did too, and the whole time Ghastly put on a wonderfully convincing brave face of not being bothered. But when they left, he let the words sink in, and recognized why he felt like he'd been punched in the throat. How it hurt and pulled as he tried very hard to not let any of it get to him. But, if Ghastly was nothing else, he was someone who thought a lot. Who could think about the same event 100 times over and try to think of what he could have done to change it or fix it.

There was no fixing this one, he knew. And really, he knew this, and he understood it. But it didn't stop him from thinking about it.

So he thought, and thought, and continued his sewing and thought some more. 

Even the most experienced of tailors still occasionally nick their fingers. And Ghastly did, not thinking about his sewing and thinking far too much about what was upsetting him. It nicked him, and it was the last straw. He pulled his hand away like he had burned it, and set the sewing needle down. He put the finger to his mouth, and moved to the bathroom to put a bandage on it.

But the thinking got to him, and his finger now hurt and his heart hurt and his throat hurt from not saying anything, and it all welled up and up and up until-

Tears leaked out of his eyes, and he breathed in that heavy, measured way you do when you are trying so hard to hold back tears, but know you already lost the battle.

His breath hitched, and he cried.

A shaky sob at first, then a fuller one. He bandaged his finger, and wept into his hands. He sat on the floor of the bathroom, didn't bother moving or getting up, as surely he'd be done soon.

His chest hurt, and his heart hurt, unable to shake that Skulduggery said these things, and how it hurt to hear it and how people reacted to seeing him. His throat hurt from not saying anything, from holding back his sobbing for so long. His eyes burned from the tears, and his nose dripped with snot. Somewhere in his mind, he bitterly thought about how this only proved those who called him ugly right.

And the front door jingled. It was faint, but just enough for Ghastly to hear it. He tried to hold his breath, stop his crying, afraid it would be a customer, and was ready to wipe his eyes and pretend everything was fine.

"Ghastly?" Skulduggery called out. Damn it, God damn it. Of course he was here, of course he was here when Ghastly was in tears. He didn't want Skulduggery to see him like this. 

He tried to get up to move back to the small room he had to sleep in. Could just pretend he went to take a nap. But Skulduggery was walking back to the bathroom quickly, and Ghastly felt so heavy and he just wasn't done crying and -

"Oh, Ghastly.." Skulduggery said, his voice soft as he appeared in the doorway. Ghastly didn’t look at him, he didn’t want to acknowledge this and tell him what was wrong. He didn’t want Skulduggery to know he was upset at all. He hated being upset over this in the first place, it shouldn’t matter, it _didn’t_ matter.

A hand on his shoulder. The quiet shuffling of fabric as Skulduggery sat down beside him. Though he had no warmth to give off, his still was a comforting presence, despite Ghastly’s upset. Skulduggery gently pulled Ghastly’s hands from his face, holding them in his own.

Not many saw this soft side of Skulduggery, this gentle side willing to hold and comfort another. Ghastly was one of the few.

“Tell me what’s wrong, Ghastly,” He said. Ghastly sniffled and shook his head. Skulduggery tilted his. “Please?”

Ghastly sighed, leaned against Skulduggery’s bony shoulder. “I’m… Upset,” He said.

“I assumed so.”

“Because of you, technically. Things you’ve said.”

“... Oh.”

“I feel like I shouldn’t be upset, though.”

“Ah? Why is that?” Skulduggery turned, pulling Ghastly closer to him, holding him close. Ghastly buried his head in the fabric of Skulduggery’s suit.

“When you... When you tell people I’m ugly. You say, that I am really, very ugly. And- And I know, that, really, I am. But...” He faltered, trying to put his words together. “I don’t even particularly mind it when others, strangers say it. But when you say it, it just seems to hurt more...” 

Skulduggery nodded, letting Ghastly know he was still listening. “I know why you do it, so I feel I shouldn’t be so upset about it but, I just. Am. It’s built up over time and, and,” He tried to push further into Skulduggery as tears welled up in his eyes again. Skulduggery let him cry for a moment, listening and rubbing smooth circles on his back.

“Ghastly,” he started. His voice was quiet and gentle, but still gained Ghastly’s teary-eyed attention. The space where Skulduggery’s heart should have been clenched at the sight. “You’re... You’re allowed to be upset over that, over _this_. I didn’t realize it was hurting you, and I’m sorry. I’ll find a better way to warn people, so they’ll know you look different. I won’t call you ugly anymore, I promise.”

Ghastly breathed a sigh of relief, a weight off his shoulders. Skulduggery wiped Ghastly’s tears away with his thumb. “Thank you...” Ghastly said. Skulduggery nodded.

“You’re welcome.”

He helped Ghastly up, helped him to the bed and laid down with him, tucking the covers around them both. They listened to the silence for a long moment, and when Ghastly could feel himself drifting to sleep, Skulduggery spoke up.

“Ghastly,” He said, Ghastly looked at him. “I...” He reached out a hand to cup Ghastly’s cheek. “I really am sorry I was hurting you, especially with calling you ugly.” Ghastly smiled, tired.

“It’s alright Skulduggery-”

“But it’s not and... I think you’re so very handsome, Ghastly. I really, really do, no matter what others say.”

And though Skulduggery had no heat to his body, his words made a beautiful warmth bloom in Ghastly’s chest.


End file.
